


Unlucky in Love

by thegirlcourageous



Series: It's Easy to Fall for Someone Like You [1]
Category: La casa de papel | Money Heist (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, First Meetings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-16
Updated: 2020-04-16
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:14:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23684476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegirlcourageous/pseuds/thegirlcourageous
Summary: Ever since she’d first laid eyes on the man, she hadn’t been able to look away. She didn’t even know his name, but he stirred something deep within her. It wasn’t lust, even if she did find him attractive, it was some unknown thing she couldn’t put a name to.
Relationships: Denver | Daniel Ramos/Mónica Gaztambide
Series: It's Easy to Fall for Someone Like You [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1705525
Comments: 6
Kudos: 28





	Unlucky in Love

Unlucky in love, that’s what her friends kept telling her. And somewhere along the line Monica had stared to believe it. Somehow, she kept making the wrong decisions, never learning from the last mistake. Her last relationship, if she even could call it that, had been with a married man, and as it turns out, a not so very nice man at that.

Maybe it’s what she deserved? Maybe a happy ending wasn’t in the cards for her.

After all, she’d supposedly done everything right. She’d been the epitome of a good girl, always pleasant and never argued, exhibiting a level of helpfulness that others had with no hesitation exploited. She never said no, and she always smiled. She’d finished school and gone to University, a good one, and while she was a secretary, she was the Director’s secretary. Her position was a good one, a respectable one.

By all accounts, she should be happy. She had stability, a job, a place to live. She should be content. But it was difficult to convince herself of that when her love life was one fiasco after another. She’d always thought that by this age, she’d have found someone. Someone to love, to marry, to have children with, to share her life with.

It had all seemed so easy when she was a child. She’d watched and learned about love from those around her. They had all found love, and she’d reasoned that once she was old enough, it would happen just as effortlessly and naturally for her.

But her teenage years had come and gone, she’d become an adult, graduated from University, and nothing. She’d been waiting and watching and keeping an eye out for the right person. Eventually, she’d had to admit to herself that love wasn’t easy at all.

Or maybe it wasn’t easy for her, a treacherous voice whispered in the back of her mind. At first, she’d paid the voice no mind, but the older she got, the more difficult it had become to tune it out. It didn’t help when her so-called friends had begun commenting. In the privacy of her mind, Monica longed to call them out on it. But the words always lodged themselves in her throat, unable to be vocalized. She wasn’t the most confrontational person at the best of times, so she let it slide. And she stayed quiet. But she couldn’t help wishing that she was brave. Brave enough to stand up for herself. She’d give anything to feel like she was in control of her life, her own choices. To be free of expectations.

Free to follow her heart.

Monica wasn’t sure how she’d manage to pull that particular feat off, so those thoughts were pushed back and put on a perpetual backburner. Far enough out of reach that it wasn’t constantly occupying her mind. She didn’t have enough room within herself to have those thoughts churning over and over in her mind, fully well knowing she wasn’t going to act on them. She never had before, she couldn’t imagine that was about to change.

But, despite accepting this, it seemed she couldn’t help herself. She guessed she still had some untapped reserves of hope left, because her mind kept coming back to wide smiles and joyful dancing.

Ever since she’d first laid eyes on the man, she hadn’t been able to look away. She didn’t even know his name, but he stirred something deep within her. It wasn’t lust, even if she did find him attractive, it was some unknown thing she couldn’t put a name to. Not for the first time, she wished she was brave enough to approach him. She just wanted to know him, hear him speak, have him look at her and see her. It sounded ridiculous, but it was the only way she could explain it. She was being pulled into his orbit, helpless to resist the pull. Not that she was even trying to resist.

She was fairly certain she wasn’t his type, but she didn’t exactly expect anything to come of her staring. And it didn’t hurt anyone but her to daydream. So, for now, it was safe to look, to live in the fantasy of what might be, even if just a little bit.

She was sure her friends were confused. While she spent time them, she wasn’t usually the type to instigate. And she definitely wasn’t the type to insist on where they went. But after the first time they’d gone to the bar, the specific bar that him and his friends seemed to be regulars at, Monica had kept suggesting it. No one had any objections, the bar was fun enough and her friend group didn’t actually care as long as there was alcohol involved, not that she was paying any attention to that. There could have been any number amazing things happening around her, and her eyes would still be trained on one man.

Monica had entertained the thought that she was acting a bit like a stalker but had dismissed it. She wasn’t following him, and she hadn’t looked up him on social media, not that she how she was going to achieve that feat to begin with. She hadn’t really attempted to learn anything about him. Every week, she just showed up at the same bar, time and time again, simply hoping that he might be there. Just to share the same space for a little bit.

She was aware that it sounded kind of insane. She didn’t know this man, had no idea if he was kind or if he would make her smile. For all that she knew, he could be horrible and mean. But somehow, she doubted that. He just looked so happy, and she could see how much he obviously cared for his friends.

Tonight, just like last Friday, Monica sat perched on a bar stool at one of the tables, her friends chattering around her, bemoaning the past workweek. She was half-listening to the latest drama that was unfolding at the office. She’d feel guilty about not paying more attention, but one could only listen to Fiona’s stories so many times and still care. It always went the same way. Someone did something, it didn’t really matter what, and she would inevitably find out and pounce on it, putting her claws into anything that looked like it could be juicy gossip. Also, she wasn’t the only person at the table, and she could hear how the others were reacting at the appropriate places. They weren’t the nicest, but they were the only friends that Monica had. So, she’d found herself making excuses for them to herself. But deep down, she knew that they weren’t especially good people. Too self-serving and too willing to revel in others misfortune. She left them to their own devices, instead focusing on the other side of the room.

Music was playing and some people had gotten up to dance. The man was one of them. And Monica couldn’t look away. Even though she couldn’t hear it, she could tell that he was singing along, his mouth moving along to the words. His eyes were closed and his smile infectious, hips swaying to the rhythm of the music. He was dancing next to a tall, dark haired woman, and she was also laughing. Monica couldn’t help but wish that she too could dance like that. Not caring that someone might be watching, and just be in the moment.

Someone tapped her on the shoulder, and she looked away, tuning in to the conversation at her table. Apparently, they had decided it was her turn to go get drinks. No one seemed to have notice where she was looking, which she figured was probably a good thing. This was hers; she didn’t want to share it with people that wouldn’t understand and that would just tease her. Tell her that it wouldn’t work out anyway. She didn’t want to hear that. She already knew. Unlucky in love and all that. She didn’t need their constant reminders and little digs. Her own mind supplied more than enough negative thoughts.

She slipped off the stool, making her way slowly across the room to the bar. When she hadn’t been paying attention, the bar had gotten busier than she would have preferred, making it more difficult to move. But she pushed on, eventually reaching the bar. She leaned against the somewhat sticky surface, keeping the grimace off her face. It didn’t matter what bar she went to or apparently how many times they wiped the surfaces, because the surfaces were always sticky. She was used to it, didn’t mean she had to like it. Still, she left her arms on the bar, and waited for her turn to order.

She turned her head a little to look for the man, but he had disappeared. A surge of disappointment rushed through her, only to quickly push it down. She wasn’t allowed to be disappointed of all things. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath, grounding herself. _Get a grip, Monica_ , she couldn’t help but admonish herself.

She straightened and took a half step backwards, only to crash into someone behind her. She spun around, a sorry ready to leap from her mouth, only to immediately die on her tongue when she took in just who the someone was. Her eyes widening, her mouth parted, but no sound came out. Only a hitched breath that she hoped the man hadn’t noticed.

Monica could feel her heart racing as she met his eyes. His eyes were also a little too wide. The silence stretched between them, and they continued to stare at each other.

Before she could stop herself or even decide if it was a good idea, Monica squeaked out a shy, “Hi.” And then she flushed with embarrassment, because wasn’t that a stupid thing to say? In that moment, she felt foolish enough to flee the bar and never step into it again.  
  


But instead of laugh at her, the man’s lip quirked, his eyes dancing with what she thought might be delight, “Hello.”

He stretched out a hand, and for a moment she wasn’t sure what to do. He wiggled his fingers, and it was like the movement rebooted her brain because she slowly reached out her hand to grasp his, hoping she hadn’t misunderstood. Unlikely, but still.

He squeezed her hand lightly, and said, “My name is Denver.”

“Denver?”

At her question, there was suddenly a tinge of color to his cheeks, and he dragged a hand through his hair, looking a little embarrassed. Looking like he’d just realized that maybe he’d said something stupid. Monica couldn’t help the fond amusement that bubbled inside her or the small smile that grazed her features. He, Denver, was adorable. 

“It’s a nickname. Inside joke.”

“I see,” she replied.

They were still holding hands, and Monica was going to blame her distraction on the fluttery feeling in her chest, as it wasn’t until he asked, “What’s your name?” that she blinked and blurted, “Monica.”

“Monica,” he repeated, sounding it out. She liked how he said it. He released her hand, and she lowered it to her side, but felt the ghost of his touch.

“Were you going to order?” Denver asked, motioning towards the bar.

Right, that was the whole reason she was up there. “Yes,” she replied, nodding forcefully.

“Me too.” He smiled at her, and the sight of it made her heart stutter. He squeezed in next to her, his arm brushing her as he leaned on the bar, gesturing to the bartender, and soon enough, they had both ordered. Neither of them moved, and Monica could feel the warmth of his arm on hers.

“You’re here with friends?”

His questioned startled her, “Yes. They’re sitting over there.” She pointed towards them over shoulder. He looked over at them briefly, but his eyes soon returned to her. His eyes crinkled when he smiled, and Monica was caught. This was not good.

They continued to chat as they waited for the bartender to bring their drinks. He pointed out his friends before she could ask, and though she already knew what they looked like, she looked in the direction he’d pointed. She noticed that some of them were looking their way, but Denver hadn’t seemed to notice this, or if he had, he was ignoring the smirking looks his friends were sending their way. Monica quickly averted her eyes, and focused back on Denver. His full attention on her was everything she thought it might be. It was intoxicating, and she couldn’t get enough of it.

Of course, it ended too soon. They both got served, and then there was no reason to stay there. For a moment, they both seemed content to linger, neither wanting to be the first to step out of their little bubble. Eventually, Denver started to move, taking a step backwards. Monica could only watch him go, and whatever she might want to say got stuck in her throat.

Before he disappeared into the crowd, Denver looked at her, “Maybe I’ll see you here again?” He stumbled a little over the words, but it didn’t matter. All that Monica could focus on was the look in his eyes, the look that reminded her a lot of hope.

The answer was easy. “Yes.”

He grinned, and then he left. She watched his retreating back for a moment. Then she picked up the tray with drinks for her friends. Better go deliver it before someone came looking for her. She made her way back to the table, careful not to spill anything.

She slipped back into her seat, and it was like she had never left. They were still talking about the latest office screwups. But Monica felt different. Something had shifted inside her, and before long, she gave into the temptation to let her eyes roam over to the place where she now knew that Denver was sitting, heart in her throat.

And he was already looking her way. She hid a smile behind her hand but didn’t look away.

**Author's Note:**

> I've recently watched Money Heist, and I'm a little obsessed as well as invested in the characters happiness. Now, who knows what will happen going forward on the show but here everyone can be happy. And Denver was one of my favorites characters from the beginning, so... Yeah. I couldn't this out of my head.


End file.
